


Indents

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Breathplay, Everyone is a bit of a mess, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:24:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>His dog tags are clenched in Peggy’s fist; JAMES B BARNES all in little raised, gray letters. Bucky wishes Steve hadn’t been so insistent they do it like this, with sharp, unrelenting metal. Hell, he wishes Steve wouldn’t be so set on doing this at all.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indents

Steve’s legs quiver like he’s run a mile, body convulsing and a hot flush dappling his bony chest, shoulders, splattering his face in the dim light from the hallway.

'Take it easy,' Bucky tells Peggy. 'Ease up, that's enough.'

She looks up from her task to meet his eyes, lips tightening into a frown, and nods. Her hand goes loose, dropping the tension from the metal links around Steve’s neck, but her other hand continues to slowly stroke up and down his cock. Steve gasps in sharp, angry breaths.

'No,' he insists, voice rasping and hoarse. 'More, more.'

There are two stripes across his pale neck from where the chains are looped doubly around. Little dotted indents in his skin like the way on a treasure map. Bucky leans down, presses a kiss to the skin just above one of the lines, below his earlobe.

His dog tags are clenched in Peggy’s fist; JAMES B BARNES all in little raised, gray letters. Bucky wishes Steve hadn’t been so insistent they do it like _this_ , with sharp, unrelenting metal. Hell, he wishes Steve wouldn’t be so set on doing this at all. Bucky had never relented when Steve asked for it before, but that was when it was just the two of them.

'Ain't gonna kill you,' Bucky had always said, and not entertained the thought a moment longer. Steve had begged. Steve still begs. He's begging right now, trying to encourage Peggy to pull tight, tighter once more.

'I can take it,' he pleads. 'Swear. C'mon, c'mon, give it t' me.'

'Shh,' Peggy murmurs, hand twisting around the head of his prick and pulling down his shaft, bringing him closer. 'You'll get what you need. Slow down for a few minutes.'

An irritated noise croaks out of Steve’s throat, and he coughs into his shoulder, clearing his throat. Bucky frowns tighter. Steve catches his eyes to glare at him defiantly and snap, ‘I’m _fine_.’

Bucky strokes up his chest to rub his thumb over Steve’s nipple, knuckles bumping up against the cool metal of the tags in Peggy’s hand. ‘Right, right.’

'It's okay,' Peggy says to Bucky quietly, and he just nods. Yeah, sure. Whatever. Bucky loves Peggy, he really does. It's not the same sorta love that she and Steve have for each other, never could be, but he respects her all the same and loves what she brings to them. But times like this he has to resent her a little bit. Steve is reckless and terrible. He's a little walking time-bomb of impulsive ideas and these self destructive urges that extend to things like getting off on choking himself on Bucky's army tags to prove he can, to chase death like a dog after the cars on a busy road.

Why’s it gotta be the tags? Hell, he’s never said explicitly, and Bucky ain’t about to ask. But Steve’s always eyed them like a challenge, like a slap in the face anyway. He doesn’t have his own, it boils down to, Bucky reckons.

Anyway, the last thing Steve needs is someone who’ll indulge him in these things. Peggy is good, Peggy is _great_. She eats her breakfast faster than the two of them combined, and has legs for miles, and lifts Steve up to kiss him in a way that Steve doesn’t resent like when Bucky does the same thing. She saves videos on the internet of hedgehogs being cleaned with toothbrushes for when Bucky is having a bad day. But she can be dangerous. She can go too far, sometimes, and the last thing Steve could ever need is an enabler.

So when Steve asks _her_ for this, she doesn’t refuse outright like Bucky always has. Usually, of the three of them, it’s Bucky she takes apart, with Steve’s help. But that’s fine, Bucky can take it even when she pushes a bit too far. Maybe especially then.

Steve is different, though, and this is different. This is more dangerous than being tied up and slapped around a bit. Steve struggles to breathe at the _best_ of times, goddammit.

Peggy lets the dog tags drop, and instead fits her hand around Steve’s throat, pushing up just above his adam’s apple, right up under his jaw. Steve gasps, and Bucky leans in, checking. She’s not pushing too hard; he can still breathe. Good.

'Harder,' Steve gets out. Bucky rolls his eyes. Peggy squeezes her hand, eliciting a full body shudder from Steve who arches up into the touch.

He’s tried to explain it to Bucky before, why he wants this. A weightless euphoria, he says. Right, Bucky says, it’s got nothing to do with chasing a death wish.

Steve insists it doesn’t. Sure.

Although Bucky has to admit that there’s something definitely euphoric about the glassy quality his eyes take one as Peggy picks up the pace on bringing him off. Steve has gone taught and tight, and there’s a trembling under his whole body, like something is shaking through him that he needs to dislodge. It’s a bit like an exorcism in a horror movie or something. His neck is held tight and still, but his hips are thrashing, feet slipping on the bedding next to Peggy’s knees.

Peggy squeezes tighter, and in the slat of golden light coming in from the half-open door, Bucky can see the flush all over Steve’s face, freckled with white dots down his neck. He doesn’t like it, but he likes the way Steve’s body reacts, jerking up and then stilling, shooting off over his stomach and Peggy’s hand. There’s a look in his eyes when he glances at Bucky, a bit like betrayal, a bit like winning.

It’s a look of, _See? You could’ve been the one to give this to me the whole time._

Bucky swallows and reaches out for Peggy’s arm when he thinks Steve has had enough time without air. Yeah, yeah, Steve’s right – he’s not dead yet, at least.

Afterward, Steve climbs up to kneel over Peggy’s lap and kisses her, murmurs a stream of thanks against her lips. Bucky looks down at the blanket and plucks at the stray bits of fluff on the comforter. _Excuse me for liking you alive_ , he thinks to himself. But he can’t help but be a little pleased at the boneless, sated way Steve lets himself be put to bed. He tells Peggy and Bucky that he’ll help them get theirs too, he will, just in a moment – but his body sinks into the mattress and his eyes flutter closed, and he’s out before he can follow through.

Bucky pulls Peggy into his lap and kisses his way up her neck slowly, tired himself and feeling fragile with worry. But something loosens in his chest when she brushes aside his hair and murmurs into his ear, ‘Thanks.’

'For what?'

'For looking after both of us,' she tells him.


End file.
